


Wished

by belovedhell



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Not Related, Angst, Dean Being an Asshole, Guilt, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memory Alteration, Minor Character Death, Nightmares, Protectiveness, Secrets, Sibling Incest, Wendigo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 00:23:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7144601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belovedhell/pseuds/belovedhell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam couldn't help but feel that his relationship with Dean was heading nowhere. Then confronting Dean was a mistake because they only ended up fighting, literally. Wishing that something would change between them. Sam randomly found himself in another universe where he's Sam Wesson, not Winchester. And Dean was still America's Most Wanted. Everything was the same except that Dean had no clue who Sam was, and that Sam was living a normal life he had supposedly wanted. This was not what Sam meant by change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Another Place, Same Dean

**Author's Note:**

> Another story I wrote. My beta told me I'm improving so I'm happy with myself and decided to treat you guys with another wincest fic. Hope this isn't too confusing though. Comments and kudos are appreciated.

Sometimes Sam couldn't understand why Dean acted like an asshole? Sure, Sam wanted to talk about their feelings and have more intimate moments, but that didn't make him a fucking girl. He just wanted to be in a relationship that was more than just sex, something more genuine between them. Yet, Dean didn't or rather felt the need to have any of that.

Dean wanted to avoid chick flick moments at all cost. And it was pissing off Sam.

At the moment, Dean was behind the wheel driving, listening to the same rock and roll shitty music that drove Sam insane. Not even caring that Sam was fuming in the passenger seat. He tried all morning to talk to Dean, only to be shut down instead.

Bitterly, Sam turned off the volume, which caused Dean to glare at him. "What the hell, Sam? Don't touch the radio." As he reached to the knob of the volume Sam stopped him by grasping his wrist.

"We need to talk, Dean. You can't avoid this conversation forever," his tone was solemn, but deep down it laced with desperation.

Pulling back his hand, Dean scoffed, "Talk about what? Seriously, can't we have one simple quiet ride without you making a big deal out of it?" Suddenly Dean's phone rang in his pocket. "Great timing." That made Sam growl. Rolling down his window with his hand, Sam snatched Dean's phone and threw it outside.

"No! You ass!" Dean harshly pulled over as he scowled at his younger brother. "What the fuck is your problem?" This was beginning to get childish.

"You're avoiding talking, we need-"

"What I need you to do is to shut your mouth! If I knew you were going to act like this I would've never slept with you," Dean admitted in anger. Sam's eyes widened, his lungs felt like it was lacking oxygen, he couldn't breath- it was like someone stabbed him in the heart. Ouch.

Usually Dean would apologize but right now he was fucking pissed off. Dean angrily got off the car to retrieve his phone, while Sam stood there emotionless, he wanted to cry and shout and even break something. Why does Dean always do this to Sam? Couldn't Dean see that he was hurting his beloved brother?

Something was bubbling inside Sam and he had enough of Dean's bullshit. Getting of the Impala he marched towards Dean and yelled, "I'm sick of this! I'm sick of you always treating me like shit! Dean, why can't you just be happy? Why don't you want us happy! Is it because we're brothers? Seriously, who cares if we are!"

Dean, who was kneeling down on the ground, picked up his phone and turned to Sam. "We don't have time for this." He rose and began to make his way to the Impala, passing by and ignoring Sam.

Sam blocked his way, "No. You can't avoid this." Dean scoffed, and then aggressively bumped Sam's shoulder as he went by him. The action provoked Sam, who turned Dean around and threw the punch first. Sam just snapped. A fight occurred between both brothers.

Both threw a couple of punches at each other and wrestled on the ground. They had never went that far before, usually just arguing, and maybe, a shove, but never enough to physically hurt each other. Dean was stressed and furious that he didn't hesitate to punch back Sam.

After ten minutes they stopped, finally getting tired and realizing that they were brawling. Everything escalated, badly. Sam got the most damage: his lips busted, his nose bleeding, and a small cut under his eye. He forgot Dean wore a ring. Dean, on the other hand, just got a swollen eye, which would turn purple in a few hours.

They got back in the car and once again drove in silence, this time without any music on. Sam rested at the edge of the car's door. Using his jacket as a pillow, Sam closed his eyes. Hoping to stop the unshed tears that were threatening to fall at any moment. Dean's words echoed through his mind. Did he really mean it? _'I would've never slept with you.'_

Suddenly Sam felt a hand on his knee. "I'm sorry, Sam," Dean said as he squeezed softly. "I- I didn't mean what I said earlier. I don't regret being with you." Sam couldn't stop himself from crying as he heard Dean. He couldn't believe he was being emotional. Fuck. What was wrong with Sam? Did Lucifer make him weak?

Wiping away his tears discreetly, Sam avoided looking at Dean and instead stared at the window. His lip's made a thin line and his eyes slowly slant. It hurt, everything hurt. His heart wouldn't stop pouncing around, he could feel a headache forming as his head began to throb. Or it could be from the punches he received. Either way, Sam was hurting. Badly.

"Sam?" Dean softly called out to him. Slight desperation and concern lingered in his voice.

Closing his eyes, Sam ignored Dean through the entire ride.

* * *

Sam unloaded their bags as he made way into their motel room. He hadn't said a word to Dean after his apology in the car. Sam placed the bags on the floor, and then breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the bed. He was exhausted and wanted to pass out.

Dean left as soon as he booked the room. Figured. Probably out in a bar drinking and flirting with pretty waitresses, who could probably give Dean everything he ever wanted. In other words, what Sam couldn't.

Trying to ignore the images that were tempting to show in his mind. Sam flopped down on his bed, slowly descending to sleep. Already missing Dean's kisses and his touches that made Sam feel so valuable.

God, his fucking head was killing him.

 _I wish Dean would realize that I need him... and that he needs me_ , was Sam's last thought.

* * *

Something nudged Sam against his ribs. Grumbling, Sam smacked the thing next to him and went back to sleep. "Ow! Sam, why did you do that for?" a female voice said.

Sam's eyes snapped open, quickly sitting up as he crawled backwards, causing him to fall off the bed, accidentally. Where the hell was he? He was supposed to be in the motel room! He didn't leave... Did he? No. He didn't. Sam was pretty positive that he was supposed to be sleeping in the motel.

Touching his face, Sam gasped at his smooth skin, he wasn't hurt. No cut under his eyes and no bruises as he pressed on his cheeks. There was no indication of Sam being hurt in the first place- If he were to look in a mirror Sam was certain that his face would be pain-free.

"What's wrong, honey?" No way. His jaw's dropped at the person in front- well, up on the bed. It was Jess. It couldn't be. She's dead. Died in a fire five years ago by the demon, Azazel.

"Jess?" She had to be a shifter, or some kind of monster. "How are you alive?" Sam questioned, then that was when he finally took note on his surroundings. He definitely wasn't in the motel, he was in a bedroom. Where everything looked elegant and simple? The walls were beige and the furniture was platinum white, almost pearl looking. Antique frames hung on the wall and were filled with many pictures of Sam and Jess.

Jess' laughter brought Sam back to reality. Something that Sam missed hearing. "Hey! I know I've been working a lot but that doesn't mean I'll be dead anytime soon," she smiled and rolled off the bed. "Give me your hand," Jess reached out her soft hand.

Sam stared dumbfounded, but didn't object as he grabbed her. He felt her smooth skin and her warm palm that Sam hadn't touched in a long time. She's real. This wasn't making any sense. Where was he?

"C'mon big guy. Let's go make breakfast." Sam simply nodded, too confused by everything. He still hadn't let go of her hand, and something shiny caught his attention: between Jess' fingers lay a silver, diamond ring. Without thinking Sam looked at his own hand, and his stomach twisted in the inside at the sight that bestowed him. A silver band ring was on his ring finger.

Sam was married... to his supposedly dead girlfriend. He would have been beyond thrilled by this a few years ago, but Sam wasn't in love with Jess anymore. Sure, she had a special place in Sam's heart. But Sam moved on; it's all in the past now. He fell in love again. Sam fell in love with Dea- Dean!

The only thing on his mind now was Dean. Where's Dean?

"Jess, where's Dean?" Sam asked as he finally let go of her hand.

He waited impatiently for her answer. Although, upon hearing the strange name only made Jess blinked and she paused for a moment. "Who's Dean, Sam?" she tilted her head to the side as she wondered. Her husband had never mentioned the name Dean before.

"My older brother. Kinda pain in the ass," Sam frowned, surely Jess must remember Dean. Sam had talked about him in the past, not so much, but enough to know that he had an older brother and that Dean was very protective of Sam.

Clearly that wasn't the case as Jess looked puzzled. "You don't have a brother, honey."

"What? Of course I have brother!" Sam glanced around the room hoping to see a phone so he could call Dean. "His name is Dean Winchester. Remember?" After not finding a phone, he turned back to Jess, who looked deep in thought.

She had an arm crossed while the other was raised as she tapped her finger on her chin. "Winchester? Odd name. Isn't that a brand name from a gun?"

Sam froze. What? "Wh- How could you not know that name? That's my last name!" He shook his head violently, trying tremendously to not shout. Sam didn't want to scare Jess. But this whole situation was absurd. Sam, in fact, did have a brother.

Jess's brows furrowed, "No, it isn't. Did you hit your head, honey?"

Sam raised his hands in the air, trying to find the correct words. "I didn't- I'm fine. Just tell me what my last name is?" Now he was scaring Jess when he raised his voice. "Please."

"Wesson. Your name is Sam Wesson." Jess covered her mouth with her hand as she looked away from Sam. Hurt flickered through her eyes, "I'm going to give you some space." She was halfway across the room when she halted and said, "When you stop acting like a jerk, come see me."

Sam stood there as she slammed the door on her way out. Okay, now he felt guilty. He wanted to chase after her and apologize, but he didn't move an inch. Still trying to figure out what was going on?

His name was Sam Wesson, not Sam Winchester. He didn't have an older brother. Sam didn't have Dean... No. He needed him. Whatever was going on here, Sam was going to find out which monster was messing with him? It had to be a Djinn. Only they were capable of doing such a thing, right?

Yet, something wasn't adding up. This wasn't Sam's happiness. A long time ago it was, but not anymore. His happiness was with Dean. Sam had to remind himself that Jess was her real self so he couldn't treat her like a hunt. Deep down Sam knew this had to be a trick, though. Hopefully.

* * *

It took a couple of hours for Sam to finally have the courage to see Jess. Sam apologized to her, saying that work was stressing him and that he didn't mean to snap at her. Lying was all Sam could do. Not sure if his bluff would even work.

Luckily, Jess forgave Sam and hugged him tightly. Giving him a kiss on the lips, which made Sam grimace. This brought so many bad memories from the past: when Sam was grieving when Jess died? When he was hallucinating about her? When it was his fault that she got killed if the first place?

After that, they talk nonstop about their life together. Sam asking some questions- not too obvious- about his current life. Thank god Jess was a chatter box, something that Sam found cute when he first met her at Stanford.

Turned out, Sam was a part-time lawyer and part-time Latin tutor. He couldn't believe he had two jobs. Jesus. Was he a workaholic? Sam also had a family that adopted him when he was two years old. At first Sam thought that maybe he was still a Winchester, sadly, Jess recalled that Sam already found out who his real parents were: drug addicts and dead.

This couldn't be happening. Sam wanted to cry. He didn't know how he could fix this, or what kind of monster was fucking with him? Dean was always the one to know these things or who to call for whenever they were stuck on a case? Sam was on his own on this one.

Wait- What if he was just in another universe or alternative world? A world where Sam was someone else rather than a hunter. It could be possible. As crazy as it sounded. Even through he still was not sure how this even occurred. Regardless, it made more sense.

Small hope filled Sam's heart when he thought that maybe Dean was also here in this place. Sam needed to know the truth. Desperately hoping that his brother was around. It was worth finding out.

"Jess?"

"Yeah, Sam?"

"Are we friends with a cop? I need to check someone's background for a case," he lied as he smiled softly at her.

Jess chuckled. "Are you aware that you're friends with some of the city's powerful-est men?" Interesting, Sam Wesson was really something.

Getting the house phone, Jess dialed a number and then passed the phone to Sam. Good thing Sam was a good actor, otherwise he would automatically be a fraud.

* * *

Sam was right. There was a Dean Winchester out there. His brother was alive and here in this world... with him. Sam wasn't surprised that his brother was Wanted in this country with the same crimes. Meaning that he was still hunting the supernatural.

Without Sam...

Glancing at the case files of Dean's, which were faxed to him, Sam couldn't help but feel saddened that Dean was out there all alone. Sam eyed the picture that was stuck between the paperclip and other criminal records in the folder; his brother was always beautiful in pictures. Softly, Sam touched the photo, "...Dean," he whispered.

Hearing footsteps from behind him, Sam swiftly closed the folder as warm arms wrapped around his shoulder from behind. "Come to bed. I'm cold," Jess pouted, and then added, "Who did you want to check on?"

"Some guy that's facing multiple charges," Sam picked up the folder and other scattered pieces of paper as he put them in a drawer. Rising from his desk Sam smiled- a little forced- and went back to the bedroom with Jess.

He had to find a way to find Dean.

Around midnight, Sam silently rose up from his bed, careful not to wake Jess. Slowly slipping out of his room Sam made his way back to his desk in his study room. Opening his laptop, he wrote down a couple of addresses. Tomorrow Sam would go out of town to visit an old friend, Bobby.

Sam may not know where Dean was, but he certainly knew where Bobby was. In South Dakota, in his home. The one person that would most likely help Sam in this situation.

* * *

"Ugh!" Sam grunted as he was slammed against the wall, outside Bobby's porch. Perhaps he spoke too soon. "Bobby! Stop!" His arm was twisted behind his back, making sure Sam couldn't escape. Sam drove six hours from Kansas to ask for Bobby's help, not to be beaten to a pulp.

"Who are you, demon?" Bobby spat. Then he used his other free hand to take out the flask that was tuck inside his jacket. Nothing worked better than holy water on a demon.

"I'm not a-" Sam shut his eyes when cold water splashed on his face when he looked over his shoulder.

Bobby raised an eyebrow in question, then he withdrew himself from the younger man. Now, Bobby grabbed his shotgun that was next to his door. "Who are you? You're no demon."

Sam stretched as he moved away from the wall. Bobby may be old but he still was strong for an old man. "That's what I was trying to tell you. Bobby, don't you recognize me?" Sam's voice hinted sorrow that his father figure didn't even make any indication of remembering him.

"Look boy, I have no clue who in the hell you are. I suggest you beat it, it gets dangerous around here." Bobby was about to turn away, only to be stopped when Sam spoke up, "Then tell me where's Dean!"

With widened eyes, it slowly changed as Bobby narrowed them. "How do you know Dean? In fact, how do you even know my name?" Raising the shotgun, he threatened Sam, "Talk! Just who are you?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Sam carefully eyed the shotgun, Bobby's finger was dangerously close to the trigger. If Sam made one wrong move he'd be dead. "I need Dean's help. You're the only one who knows where he is."

Bobby huffed. "Why should I believe anything you say? How could I trust you?" he inquired, nevertheless, he somewhat pulled away from the trigger.

Sam wanted to tell Bobby the truth. But, he couldn't say that Dean's his brother. However, Sam could lie and say that Dean's his lover because no one knew about their relationship, since in this universe they were technically not related. Yet, Sam still couldn't bring himself to say it out loud that he loves Dean. Remembering that Dean never wanted anyone to know and even made Sam promise him that he wouldn't tell anyone. _Maybe he could now_. Just not saying the brother part, of course.

 _The promise doesn't count here_ , Sam thought.

Finally deciding, "Because you lost someone you love the most to the supernatural. I don't want the one I love to suffer the same fate," Sam said firmly, looking directly at Bobby.

Bobby let the younger man's words sink in. How did he know about Karen's fate? Putting down the shotgun Bobby said, "You love Dean?" Which was a little odd? Dean never once mentioned _this guy_ that stood before him. Hell, Bobby didn't even know that Dean was into guys. Not that Bobby was judging because he'll always love Dean no matter what.

Sam nodded. "Yes, Sir. More than my own life." And it was the truth.

Lowering the shotgun, he sighed and said, "Come on in. I'll call Dean and ask him where he is." Bobby left the porch as he entered into his home, leaving the door open for Sam. Sighing in relief, Sam walked inside.

Everything in the house was still the same: noticing the devil's trap in the ceiling and sigils that ward away angels. Bobby was still, well, Bobby. Staring at the books on the shelf, Sam couldn't help but smile. Recalling that it had been a long time that he had been in Bobby's house.

"Here," Bobby emerged from the kitchen, holding a beer for Sam. "Thought you might need one. God knows we all do."

"Let me guess. Holy water in here?" Sam knew the answer already, but he wanted to see the older man's reaction, which was priceless. "Still don't trust me?" Taking a swing of his beer Sam shrugged when nothing happened. "See."

Now Bobby was getting suspicious of this new visitor. "Are you a hunter? Only hunters would guess it."

"Yeah- Kind of." Sam didn't know how to answer this. He was a hunter, but not here- here. He was supposed to be Sam Wesson, an ordinary lawyer- not a supernatural hunter. Although, he had to get Bobby's trust somehow.

Bobby grunted, thinking of another question. "How did you meet Dean?" Fuck. Sam was hoping Bobby wouldn't ask him. Afraid that he would accidentally let something slip out. Bobby was too sharp.

"It's complicated." Hoping the answer would be enough to hint Bobby that Sam didn't want to talk about it. Fortunately, luck was on his side as Bobby didn't press on.

"I'll call Dean and tell him you're here-"

"Don't!" Sam abruptly exclaimed. "I want to go find him. Just tell me where he's at?" Bobby peered at him for a while, hesitating, before he grumbled the words "idjits in love."

Sam smiled at the thought of seeing his older brother again. He watched Bobby talking in the phone, supposedly to Dean. Although, Sam's expression faded as he frowned when Bobby took a quick glimpse on him and then went further into the kitchen. A habit Sam knew too well.

Fuck! Sam knew what Bobby was doing. Warning Dean. Great. Why couldn't Bobby just trust a stranger for once? Wait... No. Couldn't risk it.

"Can you tell me your name, boy?" Bobby asked, pausing Sam's inner turmoil.

Sam answered in a lie. "McQueen."

"He said his name is McQueen, you know him?" Bobby talked through the phone, making a sour expression. Sam needed to think of something fast or else- "Seriously? You know him? Alright."

Sam snapped his head upwards in shock. Did Dean lie to Bobby? Or did Dean really know a McQueen? He was sure as hell Dean wasn't stupid enough to believe he's the real actor.

"Where are you at so I can tell him?" Grabbing a pencil and paper, Bobby wrote something down. "You're not too far. Iowa? Got it. _Call me if anything happens._ " Sam could practically hear the warning in his tone.

Bobby hanged up and made his way towards Sam, with a solemn expression. Handing him the note with Dean's current motel address. "I don't know what Dean is playing, but something in my gut is telling me that something is wrong. Now you listen here, _McQueen_ ," he sarcastically said the name, "I'm a damn good hunter. Hurt Dean and you wish you were dead."

Sam shivered. He had never seen Bobby so pissed before. Was he always protective of him and Dean with others? Probably. "Understood, Sir." Bobby's wrath was greatly similar to John's. Both were more alike than they admitted.

Striding out the door, he got into his car and drove away. As he glanced at the rear-view mirror Sam spotted Bobby on the porch, watching him drive away. Sam pondered what would have happened if he told Bobby the truth.

Probably shoot him with the shotgun.

* * *

Five hours later, Sam was beyond tired of driving. No wonder Dean complained on being on the road for too long. Switching drivers was the next best thing. The sun was setting, Sam couldn't believe the day was almost over, but at least he was almost near the motel.

His phone kept ringing nonstop throughout the road. "Not now..." It was Jessica, she had been calling Sam all day. Sam cussed, knowing for a fact that Jess wouldn't quit unless he answered her. He left a note on the desk explaining that Sam was going on a 'business trip' for a few days.

Jessica obviously must've figured out that Sam wasn't on a 'business trip.'

Getting frustrated with the calls Sam answered the ringing phone. "Hello... sweetie?" Sam paused at the end, uncertain if that's what Sam Wesson even called her.

"Where are you?" Jess demanded.

"I can't talk right now I'm very busy. Sorry, Jess." Sam heard on the other line, "Wait! Sam-" He automatically pushed the end button, Sam groaned as he tossed his phone across the passenger seat. Nothing was going right for him.

Sam clenched the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. Everything was frustrating him. Looking away from the windshield, Sam's eyes glued to his ring, bringing his attention as he gazed at his fingers. Without thinking, Sam aggressively took it off and threw it to the back seat. Jess wasn't real. She was gone. Whatever was happening to Sam only made things clearer for him. His love for Dean would never change.

Sam pulled the vehicle over once he saw the motel Dean was staying at. Checking the note, that Bobby gave him earlier, to see if the address was correct. Yup, it was right. _Iowa, 247 maple street; Motel: Rest for less._

Looking around, his eyes stopped upon seeing a familiar object. The Impala! Dean was there! "At least he still has the Impala," Sam muttered, fondly. Now all he had to do was wait. There was no freaking way he was going in there.

Knowing his brother, Dean would most likely knock out Sam with the barrel of his gun and then tie him up to a chair. Reason being because they had done that in the past with other hunters and strangers, who were seeking the brothers. And not in a friendly way.

Yeah. Sam was going to pass that. He liked being in one piece. Dean was probably waiting for him- if you call 'waiting' ambush. Making a safe decision Sam decided to wait until Dean came out and just follow him from there. The sun was almost completely down, meaning that once it's nighttime Dean would go out to a bar and drink. Sometimes it paid knowing your brother.

So Sam waited.

Thirty minutes passed. Sam tapped the steering wheel with his fingers, the _clinking_ sound echoing across his car. A whole hour passed, Sam yawned as he gazed at the motel, sleep slowly hitting him. Couldn't believe Dean had not gone out yet? What the hell?

Another dragging hour passed. Frustration was beginning to show on Sam, who kept gawking at his phone for the time. It was around eleven o' clock already. Was Dean even in there?

Realization hit him. "He probably walked to a bar," Sam dropped his head on the steering wheel, hitting himself a couple of times. He felt like a dumbass. Since Dean wasn't in there Sam could snoop around and see what his brother had been up to.

Snatching his supplies that he bought earlier: lockpick kit, flashlight, salt, and a sliver blade. Sam took the lockpick kit and the blade with him, just in case. He slipped the blade in his back pocket and walked towards the motel room. Carefully gazing around to make sure no one was nearby to see him as he messed with the door.

_Click!_

Grinning, Sam entered the dark room. Of course, Dean wasn't home. Closing the door Sam switched the lights on, and suddenly, in the corner of his eye, he saw something being swung at him.

Shit! Sam barely dodged the gun that was aiming to bash his head. _Knew it_ , Sam thought. Catching his breath, Sam turned to see his attacker- He gasped as Sam finally saw Dean, who was waiting for him the entire time. But it was not a happy reunion.

Dean's expression was exactly the same when he hunted: solemn and deadly. "Dean! Stop, I don't want- Shit!" Dean advanced at him and threw hard jabs, Sam tried to block him, but it was fruitless. Dean was fighting with everything he got. For the first time ever, Sam realized that his brother was going easy on him when it came to fighting. And that was before!

Talking wasn't helping Sam since Dean wasn't responding. Action was the only thing Dean was showing and doing. Sam couldn't even lay a finger on him if he tried, Dean was incredibly fast. His fighting skills for some odd reason were better. It improved, drastically. What the hell did Dean go through in order for him to be an excellent fighter?

Sam lost his balance as he was shoved back by tremendous force. Dean took the opportunity to raise his fist, connecting his bony knuckles with Sam's face, harshly. Sam didn't even have time to register what was coming his way, and he was suddenly knocked out. Darkness engulfing him as he fell down onto the dirty carpet.

His older brother was still a tough son of a bitch.


	2. Hunting Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated.

Sam shifted, at least tried to, but only to his horror he was bounded to a chair. Thick rope was wrapped around his wrist and onto the armrest, his legs tied together, preventing Sam from flailing. Goddamned! Couldn't Dean wrap them any tighter?

Blinking a couple of times to focus his vision, Sam lifted his head up slowly. He stared at Dean, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching Sam's every move and holding the gun firmly between his hands. Dean's position was very intimidating, his elbows were on his knees as he glared at Sam.

"Mmuhh," Sam muffled, unaware that he was gagged. Why didn't he notice before? Dean tied a handkerchief around his mouth to the back of his head. Now Sam knew how hostages felt.

"Who really are you, _McQueen_?" Dean growled, rising from the bed as he marched towards Sam. "Why did you go to Bobby's place?" Roughly, Dean lowered the gag so Sam could speak.

Coughing from the lack of air, Sam winced as he relaxed his jaws. They were sore and stiff from being gagged too long. "M-My name is Sam. I'm a hunter," Sam cleared his throat, which was dry and itchy. How long was he out? Sam needed water. "I-I need water."

Dean scoffed, "Answer my questions and you'll get your water." Grabbing a chair, Dean turned it around and placed it in front of Sam, straddling the chair as he planted his forearms on the top rail. Now being face to face with _McQueen_. Dean kept gun in plain sight.

"What do you want from me?"

This cruel son of a bitch! Sam wanted to punch him. Narrowing his eyes, Sam bitterly said, "Bite me." Honestly, Sam expected to be backhanded, but he only received a quiet stare and a slightly amused expression.

"Have we met before?" Dean wondered, tapping his gun against the chair.

Sam frowned. "You don't recognize me... at all..." He lowered his eyes, hurt washing over Sam. Deep down hoping Dean would, in some way, remember him. Obviously that wasn't the case. "Figures."

Dean was confused. The young man in front of him was crestfallen now. "Look man, I have no idea who you are," Dean admitted; Sam further deflated in sorrow. Continuing, Dean added, "But I mean something to you, right? So, let's get to know each other again." Sam went through trouble to find Dean, therefore he wasn't going to cast Sam aside.

Gaping, Sam tilted his head upwards as he stared at Dean, speechless. "You really mean it?" This had to be a trap, there was no way in fucking hell that Dean would-

"Sure. Just keep your distance, wouldn't want any chick flick moments." Dean shivered in disgust, but a small smirk made its way on his lips. Pulling out a blade from his pocket, Dean cut the ropes with ease. After he freed Sam, Dean backed away as he held the weapon closely for defense, in case anything went wrong.

However, instead of being offended, Sam chuckled at hearing Dean's words. Glad to know that his brother hadn't lost his sense of humor. As Sam weakly stood up; he grimaced at the sight of his wrists, which were marked with red, tender lines. Ouch.

"Here." Dean tossed him a water bottle. Sam effortlessly caught it without looking. Dean kept an eye on him as he watched the younger man gulp down the whole bottle. Being gagged for three hours would do that to a person. No wonder Sam was so thirsty.

The room was silent. Sam wiped his mouth with his hand, feeling refresh. "What are you hunting?" Sam questioned.

Shrugging, Dean answered, "Just finished a case. It was a vengeful spirit. Salt and burn did the trick." Dean opened the fridge to get a beer out. "So, how do we know each other? You made it sound like we had known each other for a long time, but I don't recognize you, man. Was I drunk when we met?" It wouldn't the first time it happened.

Sam shook his head, "Doesn't matter. We'll get to know each other again." He smiled, sitting down on a twin bed. "Are you expecting someone?" he asked as he waved his finger to the twin beds. Wondering, why Dean still got twin beds if he was alone hunting?

Taking a swing of his beer, Dean thought for a moment. "Nah. I used to hunt with my dad and it would just be the two of us. He's gone now but some habits stuck around. Feels wrong to ask for a king size bed, so I keep on asking for two queens every time." Sadness lingered in his voice as Dean was boring holes at the wall like it was the most interesting thing to look at.

"Sorry. Was it a hunt?" Sam shouldn't be prying but he was curious if his father had died the same way. Something in his mind was telling him that John didn't sell his soul for Dean. Without Sam being born from Mary, he didn't have demon blood within him. Meaning everything in this world's events altered. All the people he and Dean saved together in the past were more likely dead.

A hollow laugh escaped Dean's mouth, "Yeah. A fucking demon killed him. At least I shot that son of a bitch and sent it straight back to hell." Tiredly, he rubbed his eyes and picked up his phone that was on the nightstand, which was in between the beds. "Shit. It's already two."

"I'll get going. It's really late." Sam scurried to the exit, he didn't want to stay in the same room with Dean. Not sure if he would be able to control himself. Several raw emotions were hitting him and afraid something unnecessary would come out of his mouth.

Just as Sam touched the door knob, Dean said, "You can stay here if you want." Finishing his beer, Dean tossed it to the trash can.

"It's okay. I could book another room-"

"I insist. I don't bite," Dean smirked.

Sam didn't dare turn around, he gulped because Dean was teasing him as always. The words so similar, yet not the same meaning as before. He blushed and let go of the handle. "S-sure," Sam swiftly made his way to the empty twin bed, keeping his face hidden so Dean wouldn't see just how red he was.

"Night, Dean," Sam said as he got under the covers, his backside was facing Dean.

"You're going to sleep like that?" Dean raised his eyebrow in confusion. What kind of person slept in jeans and in a jacket? Weirdos, apparently. The room was vaguely stuffy so Sam must be extremely uncomfortable.

"Used to it," Sam made it up, and pretended to snore when Dean kept asking him if he was alright in the head. Last thing Sam heard Dean say was "Weirdo" as he mumbled under his breath. Then shuffling sounds were heard, clothes being taken off as Dean flopped down on his own bed.

The lights switched off. Once he heard Dean snoring, Sam sighed and opened his eyes. The room was dark and the only light was the motel's neon sign, which entered through the window.

A soft smile was placed on Sam's lips. Finally happy to be near Dean again. "Maybe it's better this way. You won't regret it this time." That's why Dean would make it harder for them. The thought of fucking his little brother was why Dean couldn't fully accept their relationship into something more.

Guilt still overwhelmed Dean every now and then, the main reason why he couldn't be fully happy like most couples. Sam knew Dean was trying, but not enough for both of them to be truly content. That's the fucking reason they got into an argument in the car and brawled the other day. Sam wanted to have a conversation with his brother about their relationship and be more open. Sadly, it ended in chaos. Just like everything else in their life.

Sleep overcame Sam as he thought about Dean and the happy times they shared together.

Unknown to him, Dean's eyes sharply opened as he gazed at Sam's direction in darkness. Pondering, what Sam meant by that? Dean knew Sam wasn't fully asleep earlier so he stayed up and pretended to do the same. Still not trusting Sam as his hunting skills were still active.

"Regret what?" Dean whispered. Now more awake than ever.

* * *

The next morning came, Dean was up and eating some burgers that he picked up once he woke up. Sam tilted his head and mumbled, "You got to lay off the extra onions or you're going to end up like-" Sam snapped his mouth shut. Finally feeling alert as he sat up, almost revealing something.

Dean was puzzled. "How did-" He was interrupted as his phone rang. "Hello?" he answered as he swallowed his food. "Yeah, he's here. Don't worry he isn't evil- No idea. He said he knows me, but honestly I'm kinda lost- What?" Dean pressed his lips together.

Sam rubbed his face with his hands. He wasn't stupid, Sam knew Dean was talking to Bobby about him. Sam frowned as Dean eyed him somewhat disgusted. Wait- Did Bobby tell Dean that Sam loved him? Fuck! Sam completely forgot he told Bobby...

"What's your whole name, Sam?" Dean questioned, "I need to know if you are the person you're saying you are."

There's no way out of this. Sam couldn't lie, otherwise, Dean would get suspicious and tie him up again. Couldn't believe they were going to do a background check on him?

"Sam Wesson," Sam grumbled as he folded his arms.

Dean nodded and told Bobby the name. "Let me know the results. I'm about to leave town in a bit, got another case. Later, Bobby."

Once he hanged up, Sam said, "You don't have to do a background check on me, Dean. I could've told you everything."

"Better safe than sorry," was all he said. "I got a case in Wisconsin. You coming?"

Sam bit his lips to refrain himself from smiling like an idiot. Dean must trust Sam enough to let him go with him. "Yeah. So what's the next case about?" he asked causally. Trying not to make it obvious, then again he was probably failing as the corner of his lips were quirking upwards.

"People missing in a forest and then days later found dead. News say it's bear attacks." Dean threw the food wrappers in the trash can, and grabbed his denim jacket as he put it on. "My guess-"

"Werewolf or Wendigo," Sam finished for him. Dean gawked at Sam, seemingly impressed. "Never would've thought of a Wendigo, but it can be that as well. You know about them?" Dean never hunted a Wendigo before, sure he had read them in his Dad's journals, yet it wasn't enough to fully help him.

"Yeah. I hunted one before," Sam answered truthfully. "They're killed with fire and Anasazi symbols keeps them away," he explained as he swung his legs to the side of the bed. His whole body was sore and he sweated throughout the night. Sam needed a serious shower.

Dean mused, "Damn, that's more than enough we need to take it down. You must be a damn good hunter if you hunted this monster." Lifting his duffle bag, Dean began to pull out his weapons. "Better take silver bullets, just in case it's a werewolf." He paused as he stared at an extra gun in the bottom of the bag. Clearing his throat, Dean huffed, "Here. Take this. You don't have any weapons on you, other than that shitty silver knife." He held the gun towards Sam.

Sam's brows creased, then it dawned to him. "You went through my car?" How else would Dean know he doesn't have any guns? Regardless, he gratefully took the gun. Sam didn't recognize this particular gun. He only recalled the one Dean was holding yesterday, which he almost used on Sam. Now that was Dean's favorite gun.

"Had to. Needed to know that you weren't a fucking psycho. By the way, if you're a hunter- Why don't you have any weapons?" Dean inquired. "Haven't you ever heard of 'Keep a weapon on you at all times.'" Shaking his head, almost annoyingly, Dean scowled, "Seriously, you don't know what could happen out there. Just keep this gun with you, okay?"

Awe, Dean was worried for him. Sam couldn't help but grin. Brother or not, Dean did care for him. It could be because Sam's a great hunter like him and had Dean's respect. Or, because Dean was supposed know him but didn't, so he's guilty. Either way, Sam was taking it.

"I'm a little rusty. I haven't hunted in a few months. Don't remember where I put my weapons." Sam shrugged his shoulders, lamely. Sam Wesson never hunted in his damn life, but Sam Winchester did. He just didn't know how to tell Dean the news. Oh wait. He couldn't.

Nevertheless, Dean acknowledged Sam's answer.

* * *

It was great to be in the Impala again. Sam had to leave his car in a storage, which he rented around the area before they left. Dean offered Sam to come along with him, so it only made sense that Sam was riding in the same car with him too. Now they were on the road together for hours.

"Someone's happy?" Dean chuckled, noticing Sam's smile.

"Miss riding one of these cars," Sam replied, realizing that the Impala still had the same atmosphere.

"You owned an Impala before?" He glanced at Sam as he tapped on the steering wheel playfully. Sam was certainly an interesting person to get to know. Dean couldn't help but feel like there was something more about this younger man than he let on.

Sam paused in thought. There was no harm in mentioning Dean about how Sam knew him, his real brother - which was stupid because he was next to him- As longest he didn't say the name, of course.

"No. But my older brother did. It was his pride and joy."

Dean hummed, "What's your brother's name?" Shit. Sam didn't expect Dean to actually keep the conversation going. His brother wasn't that type of person, to share personal information. Unless Dean grew up differently and wasn't much of an asshole like his brother.

So, Dean in this place was more talkative and sharing type of guy, and yet, his hunting skills were beyond better than anyone Sam had ever encounter. While his brother was closed off and hated talking about his feelings, yet his hunting skills were near Sam's level, maybe a little better than him, but still enough to be a match.

What an interesting twist?

Sam blinked as he realized that Dean was waiting for his answer. "Uh, Alec." Sam made up a random name. "You guys would have a lot things in common," he stated.

"Really? Is he a hunter like you?"

Licking his lips, Sam stared straight at the windshield. "He was but not anymore. He's the one that taught me everything I know. My brother was a badass." Talking about Dean made Sam warm and fuzzy in the inside, a little embarrassed, yes, but overall loved.

Dean saw Sam's radiating smile from the corner of his eye. "You guys sound close." The way Sam talked about his brother was so full of affection. Dean couldn't help but feel a wave of jealousy.

Sam laughed. "We are. He would call me 'bitch' and I would call him 'jerk' back." Suddenly the car came to a rapid halt, causing Sam to jerk forward. "Dean? What's wrong?" The expression on Dean's face looked troubled. "Dean?"

With slanted eyes, Dean peered at Sam, "Sorry. It's just... Me and my brother would play like that often." Sam's breath hitched, his mouth instantly gone dry. Brother? What? Dean had a brother? And they called each other _bitch and jerk_. That was their thing! Pang of jealousy hit Sam.

"You have a brother?" Sam forced himself to remain calm.

"Yup. His name is Adam." What the hell? Adam, their half-brother? That Adam! But that fucking didn't make sense. Sam's head was spinning at knowing this new piece of information.

Dean continued, "Technically, we're half-brothers, but I don't care because he's a real brother to me. We were pretty close... Then things happened. We talk now and then but it's not the same. He was born when I was eleven, my dad hooked up with a another woman." Bitterness laced underneath his tone at the end, still angry at his father. "I took care of Adam and practically raised him. He hunted with us but deep down he hated it."

Sam pieced everything together. Adam, in a way, took Sam's place. Going through hunts, switching through different schools, and fighting with John. Now wasn't that a major twist.

"Taking a wild guess here. He went to Stanford, didn't he?" By the way Dean's head twirled in astonishment, Sam was right.

"He did." Son of a bitch...

It was a good thing Dean stopped the car because Sam opened his door and puked. Throwing up whatever was in his stomach, which wasn't a lot since he hadn't eaten much ever since he woke up to this _place._

Dean watched in repulse as Sam tilted to the side. Halfway out of the car, hurling, Dean gagged at the sound. Sam felt his eyes watery and his throat itched with pain. Once he was done, Sam spat and closed the door.

"Are you okay?" Dean awkwardly asked. Sam didn't answer; instead he merely nodded and rested back against the seat. His stomach still felt queasy and Sam could feel himself getting nauseated again.

Shutting his eyes for a second Sam took a breath of fresh air, he meant to reopen his eyes, but he was abruptly swept away again into darkness.

_Sam could see Dean in front of him, yet he was looking away. "Dean?" he called out to him. "I need you to-"_

_"Sam, we can't keep doing this," Dean raised his voice as he spun around. "We're brothers, it's wrong. Each day I have to force myself to look at you and grant to your desires!" His fists were clenched as he gritted his teeth._

_"Don't! Don't you say that, Dean! Please..." This wasn't Dean, it couldn't be. Right? "I love you..."_

_"Love is supposed to be mutual, not coerced. I regret being with you every single day!" Dean shouted as he glared daggers at Sam. "You're nothing but a useless person that manipulates your brother-"_

_Sam gasped, knowing truly who this person was and using his brother's face._ _"Lucifer," Sam's voice cracked, then stepped back. "Get out of my head! Use me all you want but don't you use Dean!"_

_Lucifer laughed, maliciously, and advanced towards Sam. Like a predator ready to strike its prey._ _"Sam, Sam, Sam. When are you going to learn? You may have got rid of me but I can still mess with your mind every now and then. Just like now. Aren't nightmares fun?" Lucifer smirked in Dean's features._

_This was his fear, it wasn't real. Sam was asleep and having this dreadful nightmare. Lucifer was long gone. Sam made sure of it._

_"You're not real!" Sam declared. "You're not Dean! Dean would never tell me those things!" He shouted at himself to wake up over and over again, only to no avail._

_Suddenly Lucifer's true form appeared, flames blazing around him. "No!" Everything blurred._

"Sam! You with me!" Dean shook him from his sleep, causing Sam to flinch at the direct contact. He was panting like his life depended on it, sweat was dripping down his forehead. All he saw was a worried Dean, and they were inside a different motel. How did he get here?

"D-Dean?" Sam said, shakily. He hadn't had a nightmare in a long time and when he did get them it was the worst. Damn Lucifer for making him suffer.

"I'm here." Dean was sitting beside Sam in the bed, his legs planted on the ground. Sam sat against the headboard as he tried to control his breathing. Dean was staring at him, oddly. "What were you dreaming about?" He couldn't help but ask.

"Nothing important." Sam averted his eyes away so he wouldn't see the hurt expression that Dean would cast on him. He hated not telling his brother anything, hated keeping secrets. Just like how he hated when Dean would do the same. Yet at the moment he needed to calm himself, to forget about his nightmare.

"Fine. Don't say anything," Dean's tone was resentful, moving away from Sam to sit on the opposite bed. Sam sighed in defeat, and answered "I dreamt about Lucifer." And that was all he was going to say.

"That's all?"

Gulping, Sam nodded."Yes. Nothing else." Dean was snarling now, thankfully, his expression changed. "Why were you dreaming about Lucifer? Wait- The main baddest son of a bitch?"

"That's the one. Do you hear anything about him?" Sam needed to know if Lucifer was free from his cage in this place.

"Don't think so. He's trapped in a cage, or so I heard. I don't understand why you would be dreaming of him?"

"Maybe I'm just paranoid. Life of a hunter," Sam countered. Deciding that it was better not to say any more information from what he had been through. Dean didn't need to know what had happened. Not like it would make a difference. Changing the subject, Sam asked, "Did you carry me here?"

"Yeah, and you're a fucking sasquatch." He would never admit it, but Dean freaked out when Sam passed out in the car a while ago. Dean had to press on the petals of the Impala to hurry up to their destination. Throughout the time, Sam kept stirring in fear and whimpered as his eyes scrunched tightly. Luckily, Dean made it safely and got Sam out of the vehicle.

Something was bothering Dean, but he didn't want to question Sam. The younger man looked terrified from his nightmare; like he saw a fucking ghost. Although earlier, when he laid Sam on the bed he kept shifting and mumbling odd things. Mostly the words "I love you, Dean" and "Don't" multiple times.

Sam was indeed hiding something.

Dean was freaking confused when Sam said _I love you_. And to him of all people. Why would he even say that? They didn't even know each other that well? Dean kept thinking, recalling yesterday's first encounter with Sam, when he had told Dean that they knew each other. _"Don't you recognize me,"_ Sam had said that time, hurt that Dean didn't remember him at all.

Damn it. Nothing was getting any clearer. Dean hoped Bobby would find something about Sam. The question was: what did Dean want to find out?

"Thanks. Sorry, I'm causing you so much trouble," Sam groaned when he shifted.

"It's fine, dude. Just rest for today. Tomorrow we'll check out the case and head to the forest." Dean grabbed a bag and handed Sam a bottle of water and some medicine. "I went to the store earlier. That'll make you feel better. And as for me, I got myself a bag of m&ms." Dean didn't know why he was going to an extent for Sam.

But strangely, it felt right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this story done already but I'm just rechecking it. Also you guys are going to hate me for the ending... Might change the tags... nevermine, already did.


	3. Regret and Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done with this story! Yay. I hope you guys liked it and stuck around towards the end. Please don't hate me for the end; I really love happy endings, especially when the story is angst and has a happy ending. But this story wasn't supposed to be long in the first place and it had a plot and reason for what was going on with Sam, but I just wanted to finish it.
> 
> Comments and kudos are appreciated.

Dean showed his fake badge to the park ranger. "We have reason to believe there's something connecting our victims to the forest. We're hoping you could answer us a few questions," Dean said as he put the badge away.

The park ranger hesitated, then said, "Ask away officers."

Just as Dean was about to speak, Sam beat him to it. "Have you heard any screams in the middle of the night?" Snarling, Dean kicked him when the park ranger turned away. Sam muffled a groan and then scowled at Dean, but forcibly kept his lips in a straight line when he looked back to the witness.

Both smiling innocently, yet anger behind those pearly whites.

"Yes I have. Although, the craziest thing was that when I heard the scream it turned into something else. Something dark and evil. Whatever it was, it wasn't human," his tone lowered in fright. Remembering the nights when he would hear such terrible screams.

Dean nodded. "You mind if we check it out?" he pointed towards the forest across the window, while Sam looked around the cabin. The wall with flyers caught his attention. Seeing many missing persons' flyers from many ages and the years go way back. All had one connection; they all went missing in this forest. Probably long gone by now.

"Go ahead." The park ranger shook his head and left the two hunters into their own devices.

Once the witness was out of sight, Sam huffed, "Why did you kick me?" He glared at Dean, who also had the same expression as Sam.

"Look, you're riding along with me so I call the shots, okay?" Dean reminded. This sucked. Dean was not used to someone hunting alongside with him, especially when they were doing most of his work. His father was the only exception.

Sam sighed, he could hear the cockiness underneath Dean's tone. "Alright. You're the boss." Backing down was what he decided to go with, there's no point in arguing with Dean. Mostly because this was a stupid reason to argue about.

 _No wonder Dean never had a partner before_ , Sam thought, _he couldn't stand other people helping him_. Sam and John were the only ones Dean preferred to work with. If partnered with strangers Dean could be: bossy, aggressive, and snarky. Great. Sam was in for a wild ride since Dean saw him as a stranger.

"Good." Dean started to make his way to the exit. Sam rolled his eyes as his eyebrow twitched; he hoped he doesn't murder Dean.

Sam was right about the monster. It was a Wendigo. They had to separate in the forest to scatter more ground. His brother would have never been okay with Sam looking around without Dean by his side. But this Dean, that was walking the opposite direction, didn't care if Sam going in different ways.

Clutching his gun, Sam strolled by the tall trees as he twirled his head every time he heard a random noise. Twigs breaking? Owls hooting? Screaming- Wait! Screaming! Sam recognized the familiar scream... It's Dean.

"Dean!" Sam sprinted to the direction of the screeching. His heart was beating erratic at the thought that Dean was hurt. The thought that the Wendigo was hurting and making Dean suffer. No!

Suddenly the screaming stopped, only birds flapping their wings could be heard as they fled away. Sam halted as he eyed the forest. He was in a camping ground spot with trees circling around. The sky's cloudiness was giving the area a bad, spooky vibe. "Dean! Where are you?"

Something incredibly fast passed by Sam from behind. Twirling, Sam aimed his weapon at the spot, but there was nothing. A shadow roamed at the corner of his eye in speed. Sam shot the tree- and that was when he finally saw it. The Wendigo. Shit! It tricked Sam by mimicking Dean's voice.

Quickly checking his pocket- Fuck! He was only holding Dean's m&ms... Dean had the flare gun with him. Dean only had one and he insisted that he held it instead of Sam. This wasn't going to go well...

Dean scoffed as he dusted his jacket. Stupid dirt and leafs, Dean grumbled as he picked pine needles off from his hair. So far no sign of the Wendigo. Tucking the gun behind his waistbands, he heard a faint shout not too far away. "That sounded like- Sam!" His eyes widened in fear and ran as fast as he could.

"Damn it! We shouldn't have separated," Dean said out loud. What was he thinking? He heard legends of Wendigos before, they were highly dangerous. He and Sam should have been together, not apart.

But Dean wanted to be away from Sam...

Anger was somewhat bubbling inside him when Dean was near Sam. Yeah, he was being an ass on purpose. And he didn't know why? Sam was a damn good hunter from what Dean could tell, therefore that was not the reason he was pissed off. He was pissed off because Sam was hiding something from Dean.

If anything were to happen to Sam... It would be Dean's fault. Dean had to save him.

He stopped when he saw Sam's- his gun- on the floor. "No! Son of a bitch," Dean cursed. Now regretting holding the flare gun, seriously, Dean was a fucking idiot. He was acting like a bratty kid who didn't get what he wanted, and that would be Sam's secret.

Slanting his eyes in shame, Dean's mouth parted as he saw his m&ms leaving a trail on the ground. A wave of determination washed over Dean as he followed the trail. No bread crumbs like the original fairytale, but great improvising. The Wendigo was going to hell.

Sam groaned, slowly fluttering his eyes open. Where was he? "D-Dean?" Sam coughed, his arms ached as they stretched from above. Oh, joy. Tied up again, this time though, he was hanging. More pain was inflicted on him than the last time.

Dean halted when the trail led him to an abandoned mine. Holding the flare gun, Dean entered inside, being careful where he stepped on.

Squirming through the ropes, Sam growled when he couldn't escape. The Wendigo was still out there, Dean could get hurt. Sam could care less what happens to him as longest it wasn't Dean. The only thing Sam wanted to do was protect Dean and make sure he was out of harm's way. Dean would always risk his life for him so it was about time Sam does the same.

Sam heard creaks coming closer from the other side of the mine. Sam panicked. Wendigos would eat people, ripped their flesh into pieces. That would be a terrible way to die.

"Sam?" a familiar voice called him. A shadow coming closer as he stepped inside the same cave-like room with Sam.

"Dean?" Sam wasn't only surprised, but also relieved. He smiled and let out a breath that he was holding. "Hurry! Get me out of here before that _thing_ comes back."

"Isn't this like Cinderella? I'm rescuing you from the tower where you're trapped and helpless," Dean smirked as he saw Sam dangling against the wall. The analogy was shitty because it wasn't even the correct one.

"It's Rapunzel, dumbass. God, you still suck when it comes to Disney." Sam lightly laughed, but it quickly turned into a cough. Dean rushed to him and cut the rope with his blade. Sam fell forward, almost crashing to the hard ground if not for Dean, who barely caught him. Completely forgetting that Sam was a fucking sasquatch and super heavy.

Both tumbled down; Dean being crushed by Sam's full body weight. Sam winced when his knees collided badly onto the gravel, his chin hit something soft- _Huh?_ His head was against Dean's chest. Blinking, Sam propped his elbow on the side so he could rise up and see- _Oh_... They were in a really awkward position.

Dean peered at him from beneath, his face scrunched up in annoyance. "You know most people would ask for a date first, man. This is a little too fast for me."

Sam blushed and swiftly backed away, making sure he didn't step on Dean, once he was off Sam helped him up. Good thing the mine was dimmed, otherwise Dean would tease him nonstop. "Sorry." Sam tried to avoid looking at Dean. God, he felt like a freaking teenager crushing on someone popular.

Dean opened his mouth- "Watch out!" he shot the flare gun straight ahead, Sam leaped to the side. The Wendigo appeared, and it was faster as it charged towards Dean, raising its disfigured hand with sharp, razor claws. Dean shot again but missed, he rolled out of his way. Shit! Now he only had one shot left for the Wendigo. Dean didn't think the target would be too hard to shoot.

Sam tried to get _its_ attention by throwing various rocks he picked up from the ground. "Hurry up and shoot it, Dean!"

"You try fucking shooting this fast bastard, Sammy!" Dean wasn't aware what he just said, but Sam heard it. He heard his nickname. _Sammy_. It had been days since he heard his old nickname. He missed it.

The Wendigo stopped attacking Dean and headed for Sam instead, who stood there frozen. Before Sam had time to register the advancing Wendigo, it was too late. It swung his arm, clawing Sam's cheek all the way to his collarbone. Sam heard Dean shouting his name, then it slowly tuned out. He collapsed on his knees.

Suddenly the Wendigo burst into flames as Dean shot it from behind, _it_ screeched in agony and ran around the cave before perishing away.

"Sam!" Dean kneeled down, gripping his shoulders to prevent him from falling. "H-Hey, you're going to be alright," his voice cracked as he inspecting Sam's wounds. A lot of blood kept leaking from his chest. Stitches wouldn't even fix him.

Sam didn't believe Dean one bit, his sternum hurt like a bitch and he felt incredibly weak. He didn't want to look at his injury. The blood of pool was enough to know that he wasn't going to make it.

"I should've listened to you. I'm a stubborn asshole! S-Sam..." Dean wanted to cry and it was confusing him. He just met Sam two days ago, so why does he feel like he had known him forever? "Don't die- Please... I've never even found out how we meet..." That was one thing that Dean desperately wanted to know.

Smiling, Sam weakly answered, "G-Guess that's something I'm going to take to my grave, huh?" He's dying and he's making a shitty joke. But, honestly, Sam wouldn't have it any other way. Because he wants his brother, his lover. The Dean in front of him wouldn't, and ever, understand the pain Sam was going through, not being able to show his love to Dean.

Dean grimaced at the joke, he was pretty pissed but let it slide. Now was not the time to argue. "You're still not funny." He half-heartedly chuckled, now cradling Sam as he subsided onto Dean. "Why are you with me, Sam?" The question was finally said. He remembered the bright smile Sam made when Dean invited him to come along: _Pure happiness_. And Sam didn't hesitate to answer a 'yes.'

Forcing his eyes to remain open, he softly looked at Dean and said, "You're the only one who makes me happy-" He groaned when he breathed, "Do you regret meeting me?" Sam needed to know.

_Regret._

Dean's lips trembled upon hearing that certain word. When Sam thought he was asleep that night he met Dean, he heard that _word_ and it came as a surprise to him. "No. I met a damn good hunter and that's something I'm never going to forget. I don't regret shit... Just that I didn't figure out who I am to you..." Were they something more? Lovers? The thought was aching inside his mind whenever he heard Sam secretly confessing.

At first Dean denied it, but now- His heart was close to breaking from all the raw emotions what were hitting him. Dean wasn't even aware he was crying, tears falling alongside his cheeks. His hands grasped Sam's back, gripping onto his jacket.

Finally closing his eyes, Sam felt Dean's warm body one last time. "Love you, Dean," Sam whispered, barely audible. Then suddenly his body went rigid against Dean.

"Sam! No! Wake up!" Dean cried, slapping his face lightly. "Get up!" Dean without thinking leaned down and kissed him, he could feel Sam's temperature still warm, but slowly dropping. Pulling away, Dean closed his eyes as he pounded the ground, not caring that his knuckles were bleeding. "Fuck! Sam... I love you too." Dean cradled his lifeless body for a few minutes before he gently laid Sam down.

Dean watched Sam, who looked so peaceful and finally at rest. It was the first time Dean truly saw him, not just observing Sam like he had done the past few days. Sniffling, Dean dried his tears with his forearm, he growled and rushed out of the mine. Running as fast as he could, with only one idea in his mind.

Getting inside the Impala, Dean drove to the nearest crossroads, twenty five minutes away from the mine. He heard John mention before that crossroad demons could help bring someone to life... with the cost of their soul. A very high price to pay.

Opening the trunk, Dean snatched a small tin box with a picture of himself and other stuff of his belongings. Going into the center he dug a hole with his bare hands and threw the tin box in. Burying it quickly. He rose up and eyed his surroundings. Hoping to see a demon, yet nothing came.

"C'mon, you stupid bitch!" then he heard a giggle behind him.

Turning around, Dean glared daggers as he finally came face to face with a crossroad demon. "My, is that any way to talk to a lady?" a demon in a female meat suit said.

"I'm here to make a deal," Dean simply said, gritting his teeth. "Not to start small talk." He doesn't have time for this shit.

"For who? A stranger that you barely know? My, my. Dean Winchester has a kind heart. You didn't even sell your soul for your own father? Who, in fact, is more important to you than this stranger? How about I do you a favor and bring him back instead?" Wow, freaking demons knew everything.

Dean's breath hitched. His father? He thought about it in the past, but could never fully bring himself to do it. She had a good point, Sam was just a stranger to him. So, why was Dean risking his soul for Sam?

 _I love you, Dean._ Sam's voice echoed in his thoughts.

After hearing Sam's last words, Dean's hesitation was long gone. "I don't care. Bring back Sam Wesson. NOW," Dean snapped as he approached her. "Unless you want to be sent back to hell, bitch."

The demon pouted, "Fine. You only have one year before I claim your soul. Do we have a deal?" She touched Dean's face smoothly. Dean snarled from the touch, but said, "Yes." Then he roughly kissed her so she could grant him and seal the deal.

Dean wanted Sam by his side. Not caring he was going to go to hell, not even caring that he jeopardized his own life for a complete stranger. Sam risked his life to save him from the Wendigo, therefore Dean would do the same. Deep down knowing that if Dean were to die today, Sam would have sold his soul as well.

Pulling away, the demon smirked as her eyes turned dark red. "Done."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not doing a sequel, sorry. I have a lot of stories to do and this was just a random story I did to practice my writing with my beta. (But you never know in the future.)


End file.
